


Repent

by MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Gen, a bit of angst, gender neutral reader, i'll add tags as i go because i only have a vague idea where THIS is going, they / them pronouns, where would we be if they don't suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo/pseuds/MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo
Summary: Surreal fantasy adventures seem real fun when you're 12. But when you go over 20, have a job that takes 90% of your time, a cat, and one last nerve that keeps you going, it can be quite unnerving getting caught up in supernatural shenanigans.To be more precise, the ones that involve 1) a cab 2) an accidental crime 3) interior decorating while trying to keep a poltergeist 456 feet away from ripping the fabric of the universe and getting you fired in the process 4) a single pair of socks that can save the world.The only comfort is in the fact that everything is just as you remember it. Including the worms.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader
Kudos: 2





	Repent

\- I need to........ what again?

\- Repent.

The period at the end was final. He got up, sleeves sparking with green static.

Figure dressed in velvet, hunched indignantly over a pile of papers, didn’t even move, but the doors creaked open, an unspoken goodbye. With a huff of smoke, he strode out, and made sure to slam the door against the frame as hard as possible.

She looked up from the documents, and sighed.

Someday, she feared, there will be no more impossible tasks to be fulfilled.

* * *

\- I need to...... what again?

Sound was muffled by the rain pour, heavier by the minute. In the whirlwind of a crowded boulevard, shoulders colliding, and inevitably soaked shoes by the incoming traffic, it took a circus master to balance the folders in hands while walking. 

Honey soaked voice from the other side was distant, but persistent.

\- Lead the presentation on the seminar, it’s an incredible opportunity....

_As are the other 6 projects that you piled up on me, shithead_

\- Listen, Mike..... I really, really, want to.....

Another collision, caused by a very business oriented man, meaning that he had 1) absolutely no interest in minding his surroundings and 2) a single swinging briefcase, sent the phone flying with a defeating splat into the nearest puddle.

Mike was still going off, while device drowned, and cut the signal completely.

\- I cannot believe it. I cannot fucking....

One arm hauled in the air, in hope of stopping at least one of the passing cabs, and getting out of this nightmare, they picked up the offending device that continued to leak, and sighed.

As if sent from the above, a vehicle slowed down. 

\- Thank you, you’re a life savior. - they gasped tumbling in, wet files sliding off their lap onto the floor.

The driver chuckled.

\- They teach you humor in that school now, huh?

Y/N did not look a day over 20, but was absolutely certain that after working in the ruthless company environment left a toll on the face, and in the posture. Picking up the documents, it was their turn to chuckle.

\- Thanks, I guess? A job like this will give you one certainly.

Being a “one for all” for years, doing everything from paperwork, over sales, accountancy, and very often personal dummy for Mike’s wife in her shopping sprees, all on one salary, certainly did make a cynical edge.

\- I suppose, after a while, you see the joke in the whole darkness of the matter. - driver’s voice dragged on somewhere above, Y/N desperately trying to keep the polite conversation going, and maneuvering the papers back onto the seat, along with the sharp turns the cab took.

\- Sort of. But, it’s not like I can just up and leave, right? When you do it long enough, so much depends on you.

\- The waiting room would be overcrowded, huh?

Y/N stopped for a moment; the thought of Mike arranging four meetings with competing clients at the same time was a nightmare fuel, because it was very much possible.

\- I don’t even want to think about that, the world would collapse in itself.

Now that the papers lined up nicely on top of each other on the backseat, Y/N leaned back and took a deep breath. When their brain stopped buzzing from the noisy streets and work, they were actually able to enjoy the pleasant sound of muffled engine. Seat covers were a bit dusty, but not more than driver’s worn out jacket. 

The car itself seemed like it was brand new and after the purchase immediately dragged trough an old attic. The smell of it was a hint of a pine and wet dirt. So, all together, a regular cab that can be found in a city like this. Big, rushing, but lost it’s shine in all that hurry. 

A keychain dangling from the rearview mirror lulled them into calmness. A single plastic worm, bounced off in the air.

\- Where to?

Looking out, Y/N saw a furniture shop, the same one Mike’s spouse directed her to to order a patio table for their summer house, somewhere in the suburbs. It would be better to be done with this now, otherwise there will be 14 more tasks piling up per minute.

\- I’ll just drop off here, thanks.

Handing a bill to the driver, which he reluctantly took, confused, they picked up the files, balancing a backpack on the shoulder, and slid out of the cab.

\- Don’t forget the obituary list. - driver’s voice prompted.

Y/N took a glance at a thick pile in their hands, list of potential clients that Mike will sweet talk into business, was a bit soaked, but undamaged.

-Hah, got it, don’t worry! - they replied, and closed the cab door with an elbow.

Rain was calming in this area of the city, so Y/N took their time using the other available elbow to get into the furniture store, being absolutely certain that the documents got heavier than before, and were now jingling.

One particular piece in the store caught their eye right away. Maybe because it was vintage, with metal legs. Or, maybe, because of the rounded top, covered in black and white stripes. 

Just like the keychain.

* * *

\- What do you mean you "lost him"?? _How can you lose a whole man?!_

A revolted “ding” of a brass phone being smacked against it’s base echoed trough the small office.

It wasn’t the fact that an obituary list, with house keys, was somewhere out there. 

It wasn’t even the fact that Mortimer had been soaked waiting for a ride from his previous case, and was dreadfully late to his next one. 

Whoever thought that putting teleportation limit, and allowing access to the residence of a deceased via old fashioned living ways was innovative, was going to regret it immensely now. She knew it was a good idea, in theory. It seemed _practical_.

\- Ya called? - he spat, leaning on the door frame.

It was the terrifying fact that they, for some unknown reason, forgot to make a copy. And that there was only one demoted intern who knew, long time ago, how to walk the line between their worlds, unnoticed.

\- Good news, - she looked up at him, forcing a smile, - you get a chance, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> It's absolutely terrifying to just write and publish as I go, without 600 outlines and 2 months of brainstorming; it's something new to me, and hopefully it will push me to publish more work. 
> 
> So, if you have any constructive criticisms as this progresses, they are more than welcome. No hard feelings, just growth.


End file.
